


alone together

by ashembie



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Social Anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-10 22:47:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4410830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashembie/pseuds/ashembie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carver is suffocating in Kirkwall; Sebastian helps him breathe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	alone together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fracturedvaels](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fracturedvaels/gifts).



> a tiny fic for my princetheirin who has been very patient with me
> 
> this is unbeta’d, and written at 4am so my apologies for any spelling mistakes

Kirkwall chokes him; the thin streets and the tense crowds are nothing like the open fields of Lothering, and Carver is never entirely at ease here. Only when they go out to the coast or the mountain does the knot between his shoulders relax - but only a little because someone has to keep watch, even with Merrill’s elven eyes that can see in the dark and his brother’s wards protecting their camp. Carver has his duty - it’s just about all he has left - and he keeps it, always.

The Hanged Man is possibly even worse than the streets, cloying and thick and thriving with people - Carver’s worst nightmare and his brother’s natural habitat. They spend every evening in Varric’s suite now; Carver can’t complain about being away from Gamlen, and the private room upstairs is better than the taproom below, but at some point Garrett moves downstairs and the rest of their companions follow like moths to the flame. Carver usually lasts an hour before stepping outside for some air - Garrett used to be good at recognising the panic in Carver’s eyes when the people got too loud and his heart started beating double-time, but they barely know each other any more. The loss of their relationship is dull compared to that of Bethany, of their home, but it’s there, it still hurts, and nothing makes it easier.

The people who fight by their side and drink with them tonight are Garrett’s friends, not his; Carver sips his ale and feels more like a part of the furniture than part of the group. Only Sebastian is more out of place here than Carver, and a tentative bond forms between them; despite what differences they might have, no one likes being the unwanted guest people are too polite to turn away. If they talk to each other, they can pretend the others want them there too.

Sebastian is lovely; he’s a noble, a gentleman in ever sense of the word, and Carver feels awkward and ungainly with his farmboy manners, but Sebastian has never laughed at him, only smiled and reached out to touch his hand when Carver shyly returned it. It’s Sebastian who realises when Carver is buckling under the pressure of their companions now; they step outside together every night. Garrett had raised his eyebrows and Isabela had winked the first time Sebastian had excused them; but now they just get up and go. They aren’t missed.

One night, they’re standing in companionable silence when Carver makes an involuntary happy noise as he savours the cool air. Sebastian looks at him and laughs - with him, for him, but never at him - head tossed back, a light in his eyes that makes Carver’s stomach flipflop; his hand reaches out to touch Sebastian’s side and pull him into a chaste kiss.

For a moment, Carver thinks he’s made the biggest mistake of his life because Sebastian has stiffened up and is grabbing his arms, he’s going to force him back and let him down gently with that soft smile and Carver will be alone again –

Sebastian’s hands move up to cup his cheeks tenderly and kisses him back. They’re in the middle of the street, drenched in moonlight that shines bright off Sebastian’s white armor, anyone could look out of a window, or step outside, and see them and Carver doesn’t care. He has one hand stroking the back of Sebastian’s head, fingers tangling in his dark red hair, his other arm around Sebastian’s waist, holding him snug against his chest (Maker this feels amazing, he never wants to stop). His lips are soft and warm and kissing him so eagerly it makes him forget that his own lips are rough and chapped, that he hasn’t bathed in four days, and that Garrett could come outside at any minute to look for him (he won’t, because Carver is never missed when Garrett’s with his friends but a part of Carver still holds onto the thought).

There are spots dancing behind his eyelids but he has to physically force himself away. As he gasps for breath he presses a wet kiss to Sebastian’s throat. Then another, and another, carefully bites the soft skin under his jaw –

“Carver,” Sebastian’s voice is wrecked, and it sends liquid heat down his spine. Agile fingers twist in his hair, tug him closer, and Carver’s hips stutter forward unintentionally as he gasps an oath in Sebastian’s skin. He wants him. Carver wants him badly, wants him spread out on a bed beneath him so Carver can touch and kiss him for hours, not just this desperate fumble in the street where anyone could see –

The Hanged Man’s door slams open, flooding the street with firelight and the sounds of the raucous crowd inside - the miners are singing Andraste’s Mabari again - and Carver’s heart stops at the sight of the tall bearded figure in the doorway. But Sebastian grabs his tunic and hauls him into a tiny alley out of sight.

The man with a striking resemblance to Garrett stumbles off towards the docks arm-in-arm with a much drunker friend - Carver swears viciously as he watches him go, furious at the interruption, and at himself for being scared at the thought of his brother catching the two of them. Sebastian laughs, quietly, then slips his arms around Carver’s middle and noses at his throat. Carver stops mid-swear, far more interested in what Sebastian’s doing with his teeth than his brother’s lookalike. A whimper drags itself out of his throat, and he feels his cheeks warm because he’s never made that noise before, and there’s a satisfied smile against his neck.

He threads his fingers through Sebastian’s hair and hauls him back into another kiss - hungry this time, he presses him against the wall behind him and shows him how much he wants him, just in case Sebastian couldn’t tell - and oh Carver likes this better, likes cupping Sebastian’s face and tilting him how he wants, feeling Sebastian surrender to him.

They part for air again, foreheads resting against one another, trying to catch their breath. Already Carver misses the feel of Sebastian’s lips on his, so he gives him brief, feather-light kisses across his cheeks and nose, and feels Sebastian’s hands smooth up and down his sides.

This is addicting, and Carver is never ever going to stop.


End file.
